


Curls

by PlatinumWriter (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Funny, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/PlatinumWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Italy brother's curls get knotted together, everyone gets the wrong idea. Little do they know, everything is not as it sounds. Slight SpaMano, Slight GerIta. *ONE-SHOT*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curls

England have an annoyed sigh as he walked through the sunlit hallways of the Countries' Meeting Center, that is, the one that was stationed in Paris, France. The building was decorated in light blue colors, with white doors, and light red frames around the windows and doors. While they were England's colors as well, he still hated the fact they were decorated in this building to signify France.

But of course, he had to be respectful. He pushed open one of the pure white doors, and was greeted by a large round table, where a large group of countries were gathered. All of them bored, waiting for a final few members to show up. As sun continued to shine into the windows making shadows of their figures on the tables and walls.

England looked around and saw that Germany, Romano, Spain, and Italy were late... And he hadn't seen them in the hallway. For all the other countries, they knew to wait five minutes, and if Germany didn't arrive...

Panic.

Germany was never late, even when he was struggling to get Italy out of the house. It wasn't rare for Italy to cause the German trouble.

Spain and Romano hadn't shown up, as well, which they couldn't explain. Romano hated talking at meetings, and also refused to do so. But between him and Italy, he was the most responsible, therefore he had to go to the meetings and take care of all the stupid paperwork for their country. He wasn't one to skip meetings and let Italy report back to him.

Spain was also unexplained, as the Spaniard didn't skip meetings, and came to them mainly to chat with Romano.

"Maybe something happened and they're not going to show...?" A faint voice came, seemingly from no where.

England looked around seeing no one, "who are you?"

"I'm Canada..."

"Dude, that would be great!" America shouted, jumping up and making Canada yelp, "now we don't have Germany yelling at us through the whole meeting! We don't need those losers, the hero's here and he's gonna start the meeting!" He grinned at everyone, until England shoved him down.

Francis gave a nod from his seat at the head of the table. Seeing how it was his country, he was in charge of keeping things in tact and keeping track of the speakers. "Oui, if Germany is not showing up, then the meeting can-..."

He was cut off by a loud noise down several rooms away, "ow! Doitsu!" The cry was loud, pained sounding, but not scared, "Doitsu! That hurts! Don't do that please!" It was Italy's voice they realized, as he continued to cry out. "Ow! Doitsu! Don't touch there!"

The countries all looked in the direction of the noise, little white questions marks almost visible if one were to look closely. It seemed too quickly that they were in the hall looking for the Italian.

"Italy! Stop moving and it will stop hurting!" Germany's voice snapped for a moment.

"Ve! Germany! It's stuck! Ow! Germany!"

"Italy hold on! Let me pull it out!"

France gave a smirk towards the other countries, "onhonhonhonhon!"

England turned on his, smacking him in the head, "shut up you bloody frog, that's repulsive!"

"There is nothing wrong with the making of love between two lovers," France chuckled, "it is-..."

The Frenchman was cut off by Romano's voice, from the same direction. In the same pained tone as his brother.

"Stupid Tomato-Bastard! Be gentler! That hurts!"

"I am trying Roma! What if I do this?" Was Spain's reply.

"No! No! No! Don't do that! Go back to what you were doing before!"

Francis face became mischievous, "oh my!" He chuckled, as he took the lead and turned to face everyone, "come on, now, it would be very rude to interrupt them!" He chuckled, trying to shoo them all away.

Prussia gave a laugh, grinning, "no way! Mein brudder is getting laid! I'm going to get blackmail for when mein awesome self needs something!"

"Non! Shoo!" Francis waved them all off, hearing them off into the hallway, back to the meeting room. Closing the door with another laugh, looking down towards the other room where the two Italians were. "Good luck, mon amis."

Down the hall, in the other room, Italy and Romano had been talking to each other as calmly as possible. Romano was trying not to curse, and Italy... Trying not to cry...

It had been failing, when Germany and Spain had come to retrieve them. Resulting in both of them yelping, and jumping. Their curls had gotten knotted together, and that's where they were now. Germany and Spain attempting to get the curls untangled.

Italy's face was buried into Germany's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around him. His always closed eyes were closed even tighter, tears pouring from them. "D-Doitsu!" He whimpered softly, the curl being both a pleasure and a pain zone for him. Depending on how it was touched or tugged. A gentle touch would send him moaning, but in positions such as this, it felt like a kick to the crotch for any other man. The same went for Romano.

Speaking of Romano, he was in a similar position with Spain. Gritting his teeth and being forced to rest his chin on Spain's shoulder, arms wrapped around him, clutching his shirt. The two were failing to assist the brothers out of their painful problem. They were thinking they were exaggerating a bit, but still attempted to help.

Spain was holding Romano's curl piece straight, trying to think around the problem. He was working it out in his mind, before trying to do anything else.

Meanwhile, Germany was madly tugging at the curls altogether. Trying to pull them apart and rip the strands off hair out of each other to put them back to the right Italian. It was almost like a follow-the-line maze in a coloring book.

"Why don't we just cut the things off?!" The German shouted, letting go of the curls to find a pair of scissors.

"Noooo!" Both Italy's thrashed to get away from him once he found the scissors.

"Why not...?"

Romano snapped, "how would you like me to cut off your dick, you damn potato bastard!" He screamed, trying to face the main, but groaning in pain as he accidentally tugged their curls again, causing Italy to cry.

"A-Ah!"

Romano gave a growl, "just get us out and we'll explain!" He shouted.

"We're trying!"

After trying for a bit longer, the door burst open and Prussia jumped in. He had a camera which began flashing, but he stopped after twenty or so photos. There was nothing blackmail worthy here...

"What...?" Prussia blinked for a moment, "but France said..." Realization struck the Prussian and he gave a groan, "Mein Gott... FRANCE!" He screamed.

There was laughter down the hall, "that is what you get for curiosity mon ami!"


End file.
